


Krähe and Zikade

by GamerMattJeevas (BrassOctopi)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Gratuitous German names, Morals abound, Talking Animals, children's story, fairy tale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-02
Updated: 2015-07-02
Packaged: 2018-04-07 06:14:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4252446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrassOctopi/pseuds/GamerMattJeevas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A crow finds a hole in the ground and learns a lesson about patience.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Krähe and Zikade

One day, Krähe was hopping through the woods, in search of some tasty bugs to eat, when he came upon a curious looking hole in the ground. “What is this?” he asked, tilting his head this way and that. He poked his beak in the hole, but whatever was in there was in too deep. He tried to peer in, but it was too dark and deep to see. “Hello?” he called, scratching at the hole with his foot. After a second, he hopped and cried “Fine, then!” and prepared to fly away, when he heard a voice deep within the hole.

“Wait!” called the voice. “Where are you going?” Krähe paused, startled.

“You wouldn’t come out, so I got tired of trying to see you,” Krähe explained. “What’s your name, anyways?”

“I’m Zikade,” the voice chirped back. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“But I _haven’t_ met you,” Krähe complained, hopping from one foot to the other. “You’re down in that hole.”

“I have been for twelve years,” Zikade agreed proudly.

“Twelve _years_?” Krähe cried in dismay. “Aren’t you _bored_?”

“Certainly not,” Zikade replied, sounding just as surprised. “I’ve had plenty of time to think, and other animals like yourself come along to chat, and then I have more to think on; why, it’s a wonderful life!” Krähe shook his head, still not understanding. “Come back tomorrow and we can talk again,” Zikade offered. 

“Why can’t we talk now?” Krähe asked, but the hole was silent. “Fine,” he huffed, flying away, and deep in her hole, Zikade slept.

The next day, Krähe showed up bright and early. “Zikade, Zikade!” he cawed. “I’m back! Can we talk now?” But Zikade, not even awake yet, was silent. Krähe hopped from foot to foot, waiting for Zikade to speak. But after a few more seconds, he was bored yet again and turned to fly away.

“Wait,” came Zikade’s voice. “Where are you going?”

“You wouldn’t come out,” Krähe answered, “and I got tired of waiting for you.” 

“Why, you haven’t been here a minute,” Zikade said, amused. “How can you be tired of waiting already?”

“You said we would talk, and then you didn’t respond,” Krähe explained, sounding exasperated to Zikade. 

“Well, if you had only waited a bit longer, we would have been talking,” Zikade said reasonably, settling in comfortably. “And now you’ve wasted half the discussion with your silliness. I was going to let you ask two questions, but now we only have time for one.” Krähe squawked his dismay.

“Only one question? Well, I guess… what exactly does a ‘Zikade’ look like? I’ve never met one before.”

Zikade chirped her amusement. “I’m a bug, first off, with a black body and transparent wings.”

“Can’t you just show me?” Krähe asked, excited.

“Not yet,” Zikade said calmly.

“Oh,” said Krähe, not even trying to hide his disappointment. 

“Come back tomorrow, though, and you can ask me more questions,” she offered.

“Okay,” Krähe said, and he flew away to let Zikade sleep again.

And so the months passed; Krähe would come to call at the hole, and then he would wait to hear Zikade call back. Then the two would sit and talk, until one or the other was tired. If Krähe tried to push too hard, Zikade would fall silent, and nothing Krähe said would make her speak again that day. Seasons passed, and Krähe learned Zikade’s favorite color (purple to his green), favorite food (sap to his frogs), and all sorts of other things, and the two became best friends.

One day, Krähe came sit on the branch above Zikade’s hole, and called, “Good morning, Zikade.” He waited, but Zikade did not answer. After seeing the shadows change their position once, twice, he tried again. “Er, good morning, Zikade.”Still, there was no answer from the hole. He wondered what Zikade could be doing. Yes, she usually made him wait, but she usually didn’t make him wait this _long_. Maybe she was really deep in thought. Or what if she was really, really deep in her hole and couldn’t hear him? But he didn’t want to bother her, so he sat down on his branch to wait. A few minutes later, he was asleep.

Almost an hour later, he was woken up by a bright voice chirping at him. “Hello, Krähe!” Krähe startled and looked over to the trunk of the tree. There sat a green-black bug with the most beautiful bright red eyes he’d ever seen. 

“Zikade?” he asked in surprise.

“Yes!” she chirped. “Sorry I’m late, I was out stretching my wings.”

“You’re finally out of your hole,” Krähe said, still not understanding.

“I am,” Zikade agreed patiently. “And wasn’t it worth the wait?” When Krähe tilted his head in confusion, she continued. “If I had come out right when we met, we wouldn’t have become friends. But since you were patient, we got to know each other.”

“Oh, I see,” Krähe said, ruffling his feathers happily. The two sat and talked, and when they were done, they flew off together, continuing to be the best of friends.

**Author's Note:**

> A friend of mine asked me to write a short story he could read the to kids he taught, featuring a cicada and a crow. I was more than happy to oblige - writing little stories like this is incredibly fun.


End file.
